


There Are Delightful Burdens

by Ort



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Family Bonding, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, ManDadlorian, No Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, for now at least - depends on the requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24828679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ort/pseuds/Ort
Summary: Tumblr Requests.In the vastness of space and time, it is fortuitous that one should find another to love so deeply it aches and to hold so tightly that it seems not even the force of a dying star could sever whatever ties draw them together.Even the weight of one's life in the hands of another is not enough to keep down the delicacy of love; it is too delightful of a burden to bare.But it is a burden.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	There Are Delightful Burdens

When Din staggers up to the Razor Crest, all bruised ribs and aching limbs, it’s to find his son, not sitting obediently in his nest of blankets and toys, where Din left him, but standing at the top of the entry ramp, a med kit clutched in his tiny claws. 

“Late,” he squeaks, his voice trembling. He watches with wide eyes as Din stumbles his way up the ramp, letting out a small cry when Din’s foot catches on the lip of the entryway. 

“I’m alright,” Din grits out, catching himself before he falls, and leans against the wall of the Crest, breathing heavily; he fumbles with his vambrace, his shaking fingers finally pressing the button for the ramp. As it closes, he feels something tug at his pant leg. 

“Hurt.” 

“Kuiil,” he murmurs tiredly and slides down against the wall, holding out a hand; Kuiil takes it after a moment and Din pulls him gently into his side, smiling softly when Kuiil plops down and opens the medkit with a click. He watches as his son’s brow furrows, claws hovering over the contents of the kit, before he gingerly pulls out a roll of bandages and lifts it up for Din to see. 

“Not now,” Din tells him softly and reaches a hand up to lift away his helmet, placing it gently on the floor beside them; the cool air of the Crest feels wonderful on his skin and he sighs, ignoring the ache in his ribs in favor of slumping even further down the wall. “I’m just bruised,  _ ad’ika. _ That’s all.” 

“Hurt!” 

“Yes, but not badly.” 

“Tired.”

“Very.” 

Kuiil frowns and presses further into his side, placing the bandages down and pushing the medkit away, before resting his head against Din’s chest plate and letting out a small whimper when Din shifts and then hisses. 

“I’m alright,  _ sen’ika, _ I promise,” Din tries, undoing the straps of his chest plate. Kuiil leans back as Din removes the armor, before pressing further into Din’s space. 

“Said that last time,” the kid mumbles, smushing his facing into Din’s chest. “You came back limping.”

“Well-”

“Time before that…” Kuiil sniffs and looks up, his eyes shining. “You were breathing funny.” 

“Kuiil-” 

“And then,” the kid starts, voice already thick with tears, but Din hushes him, tracing a thumb along his ear. Kuiil softens under the touch, his body going slack, and a soft sigh escapes him. Din watches him, his chest tight with more than just aches, and, after a moment, he scoops Kuiil up, resting him in the crook of his arm and rocking him gently. The kid stares at him with a lidded gaze. Din leans over, ignoring the protest of his ribs, and presses his lips to the crown of Kuiil’s head, smiling against him when Kuiil hums and then giggles as Din nuzzles him with his nose. 

“ _ Buir! _ ” Kuiil laughs, pushing Din’s face away and Din chuckles, shifting him in his arms so that he can use his free hand to scratch just Kuiil’s chin. The kid wriggles, peels of laughter filling the ship’s chamber; they only subside when Kuiil manages to slip from Din’s grasp, snickering as Din makes an uncoordinated grab for him. He escapes and Din watches with a tired smile as Kuiil retrieves the medkit, casting one more questioning glance back. 

“You sure?” he asks, ears pricking up when Din nods and stands, using the wall for support when he stumbles. Din lets out a long breath, exhaustion hitting him like a load of beskar, but he pushes through it and gives Kuiil what he hopes is a reassuring smile. 

“I’m sure,” he murmurs and leans down to lift Kuiil up so he can place the medkit back in the Crest’s storage unit. “How’d you even manage to get this down?” He asks, furrowing his brow as Kuiil carefully closes the door to the unit. He son bites his lip, ears twitching. 

“Powers,” he mumbles, avoiding Din’s gaze.

“Kuiil,” Din admonishes and Kuiil’s ears fall, a look of shame overcoming his features. Din sighs, turning to go and sit on his cot; he closes his eyes as he sinks onto the thin mattress, Kuiil leaning against his chest. “You’re not supposed to use your powers when I’m not here,” Din murmurs, tilting his head back against the wall. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

He feels Kuiil shift, and cracks an eye open; Kuiil is staring mournfully down at his hands. 

“You were late,” he whispers simply. Din feels something in his chest restrict as Kuiil continues, turning to look at Din with wide eyes. “You were hurt. You said to use them if there was an emergency.” 

“ _ Ad’ika _ , this isn’t an emergency…” 

“But what if it  _ was _ ?” 

Din purses his lips; he hesitates, before tugging Kuiil closer and shifting to lay down, letting Kuiil rest over top his chest. 

“ _ Buir, _ ” Kuiil presses.

“Hush,” Din whispers, placing a hand on Kuiil’s back, his thumb rubbing circles between the kid’s shoulder blades. “I’m alright, I promise.” 

He feels  _ something _ pressing at the edges of his mind; a presence that is too familiar to be mistaken. Din accepts it, easily; it seems his son isn’t even aware that he’s doing it - like a babe seeking the warmth of a bosom, Kuiil’s mind seeks comfort in Din’s, and who is he to turn his child away. He thinks, one day, he will have to address it; to teach Kuiil, however he can, to control the sorcery he seems to possess, but, for now, he lets it linger, a shivering figure at the edge of a fire’s light. 

Kuiil hums, warm against his chest, and Din brings his other arm up to hold him even tighter when one of Kuiil’s small hands curls into the fabric of his tunic. 

“ _ Nuhoy, sen’ika, _ ” he murmurs, closing his eyes. Kuiil’s only response is a small snore and Din can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a Translations: 
> 
> ad'ika - little one, often used when referring to a child  
> sen'ika - little bird. pet name or term of endearment.   
> buir - parent (no gender)  
> nuhoy - sleep
> 
> ***
> 
> Other Notes: 
> 
> I've seen some fics use the name "Kuiil" for the child - I personally think that this is an amazing choice and I commend whoever started it. I will be using the name through these small fics.   
> (If you want a good series using the name - Love Like You, by CoffeeQuill is incredible)
> 
> If you'd like to request something (or just check out other work/art by me) visit my tumblr:   
> fox-moblin.tumblr.com


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